CHAPTER II--THE CASWALLS OF CASTRA REGIS
Mr. Salton had all his life been an early riser, and necessarily an earlywaker. But early as he woke on the next morning--and although there wasan excuse for not prolonging sleep in the constant whirr and rattle ofthe "donkey" engine winches of the great ship--he met the eyes of Adamfixed on him from his berth. His grand-nephew had given him the sofa,occupying the lower berth himself. The old man, despite his greatstrength and normal activity, was somewhat tired by his long journey ofthe day before, and the prolonged and exciting interview which followedit. So he was glad to lie still and rest his body, whilst his mind wasactively exercised in taking in all he could of his strange surroundings.Adam, too, after the pastoral habit to which he had been bred, woke withthe dawn, and was ready to enter on the experiences of the new daywhenever it might suit his elder companion. It was little wonder, then,that, so soon as each realised the other's readiness, they simultaneouslyjumped up and began to dress. The steward had by previous instructionsearly breakfast prepared, and it was not long before they went down thegangway on shore in search of the carriage.
They found Mr. Salton's bailiff looking out for them on the dock, and hebrought them at once to where the carriage was waiting in the street.Richard Salton pointed out with pride to his young companion thesuitability of the vehicle for every need of travel. To it wereharnessed four useful horses, with a postillion to each pair.
"See," said the old man proudly, "how it has all the luxuries of usefultravel--silence and isolation as well as speed. There is nothing toobstruct the view of those travelling and no one to overhear what theymay say. I have used that trap for a quarter of a century, and I neversaw one more suitable for travel. You shall test it shortly. We aregoing to drive through the heart of England; and as we go I'll tell youwhat I was speaking of last night. Our route is to be by Salisbury,Bath, Bristol, Cheltenham, Worcester, Stafford; and so home."
Adam remained silent a few minutes, during which he seemed all eyes, forhe perpetually ranged the whole circle of the horizon.
"Has our journey to-day, sir," he asked, "any special relation to whatyou said last night that you wanted to tell me?"
"Not directly; but indirectly, everything."
"Won't you tell me now--I see we cannot be overheard--and if anythingstrikes you as we go along, just run it in. I shall understand."
So old Salton spoke:
"To begin at the beginning, Adam. That lecture of yours on 'The Romansin Britain,' a report of which you posted to me, set me thinking--inaddition to telling me your tastes. I wrote to you at once and asked youto come home, for it struck me that if you were fond of historicalresearch--as seemed a fact--this was exactly the place for you, inaddition to its being the home of your own forbears. If you could learnso much of the British Romans so far away in New South Wales, where therecannot be even a tradition of them, what might you not make of the sameamount of study on the very spot. Where we are going is in the realheart of the old kingdom of Mercia, where there are traces of all thevarious nationalities which made up the conglomerate which becameBritain."
"I rather gathered that you had some more definite--more personal reasonfor my hurrying. After all, history can keep--except in the making!"
"Quite right, my boy. I had a reason such as you very wisely guessed. Iwas anxious for you to be here when a rather important phase of our localhistory occurred."
"What is that, if I may ask, sir?"
"Certainly. The principal landowner of our part of the county is on hisway home, and there will be a great home-coming, which you may care tosee. The fact is, for more than a century the various owners in thesuccession here, with the exception of a short time, have lived abroad."
"How is that, sir, if I may ask?"
"The great house and estate in our part of the world is Castra Regis, thefamily seat of the Caswall family. The last owner who lived here wasEdgar Caswall, grandfather of the man who is coming here--and he was theonly one who stayed even a short time. This man's grandfather, alsonamed Edgar--they keep the tradition of the family Christianname--quarrelled with his family and went to live abroad, not keeping upany intercourse, good or bad, with his relatives, although thisparticular Edgar, as I told you, did visit his family estate, yet his sonwas born and lived and died abroad, while his grandson, the latestinheritor, was also born and lived abroad till he was over thirty--hispresent age. This was the second line of absentees. The great estate ofCastra Regis has had no knowledge of its owner for fivegenerations--covering more than a hundred and twenty years. It has beenwell administered, however, and no tenant or other connected with it hashad anything of which to complain. All the same, there has been muchnatural anxiety to see the new owner, and we are all excited about theevent of his coming. Even I am, though I own my own estate, which,though adjacent, is quite apart from Castra Regis.--Here we are now innew ground for you. That is the spire of Salisbury Cathedral, and whenwe leave that we shall be getting close to the old Roman county, and youwill naturally want your eyes. So we shall shortly have to keep ourminds on old Mercia. However, you need not be disappointed. My oldfriend, Sir Nathaniel de Salis, who, like myself, is a free-holder nearCastra Regis--his estate, Doom Tower, is over the border of Derbyshire,on the Peak--is coming to stay with me for the festivities to welcomeEdgar Caswall. He is just the sort of man you will like. He is devotedto history, and is President of the Mercian Archaeological Society. Heknows more of our own part of the country, with its history and itspeople, than anyone else. I expect he will have arrived before us, andwe three can have a long chat after dinner. He is also our localgeologist and natural historian. So you and he will have many interestsin common. Amongst other things he has a special knowledge of the Peakand its caverns, and knows all the old legends of prehistoric times."
They spent the night at Cheltenham, and on the following morning resumedtheir journey to Stafford. Adam's eyes were in constant employment, andit was not till Salton declared that they had now entered on the laststage of their journey, that he referred to Sir Nathaniel's coming.
As the dusk was closing down, they drove on to Lesser Hill, Mr. Salton'shouse. It was now too dark to see any details of their surroundings.Adam could just see that it was on the top of a hill, not quite so highas that which was covered by the Castle, on whose tower flew the flag,and which was all ablaze with moving lights, manifestly used in thepreparations for the festivities on the morrow. So Adam deferred hiscuriosity till daylight. His grand-uncle was met at the door by a fineold man, who greeted him warmly.
"I came over early as you wished. I suppose this is your grand-nephew--Iam glad to meet you, Mr. Adam Salton. I am Nathaniel de Salis, and youruncle is one of my oldest friends."
Adam, from the moment of their eyes meeting, felt as if they were alreadyfriends. The meeting was a new note of welcome to those that had alreadysounded in his ears.
The cordiality with which Sir Nathaniel and Adam met, made the impartingof information easy. Sir Nathaniel was a clever man of the world, whohad travelled much, and within a certain area studied deeply. He was abrilliant conversationalist, as was to be expected from a successfuldiplomatist, even under unstimulating conditions. But he had beentouched and to a certain extent fired by the younger man's evidentadmiration and willingness to learn from him. Accordingly theconversation, which began on the most friendly basis, soon warmed to aninterest above proof, as the old man spoke of it next day to RichardSalton. He knew already that his old friend wanted his grand-nephew tolearn all he could of the subject in hand, and so had during his journeyfrom the Peak put his thoughts in sequence for narration and explanation.Accordingly, Adam had only to listen and he must learn much that hewanted to know. When dinner was over and the servants had withdrawn,leaving the three men at their wine, Sir Nathaniel began.
"I gather from your uncle--by the way, I suppose we had better speak ofyou as uncle and nephew, instead of going into exact relationship? Infact, y
our uncle is so old and dear a friend, that, with your permission,I shall drop formality with you altogether and speak of you and to you asAdam, as though you were his son."
"I should like," answered the young man, "nothing better!"
The answer warmed the hearts of both the old men, but, with the usualavoidance of Englishmen of emotional subjects personal to themselves,they instinctively returned to the previous question. Sir Nathaniel tookthe lead.
"I understand, Adam, that your uncle has posted you regarding therelationships of the Caswall family?"
"Partly, sir; but I understood that I was to hear minuter details fromyou--if you would be so good."
"I shall be delighted to tell you anything so far as my knowledge goes.Well, the first Caswall in our immediate record is an Edgar, head of thefamily and owner of the estate, who came into his kingdom just about thetime that George III. did. He had one son of about twenty-four. Therewas a violent quarrel between the two. No one of this generation has anyidea of the cause; but, considering the family characteristics, we maytake it for granted that though it was deep and violent, it was on thesurface trivial.
"The result of the quarrel was that the son left the house without areconciliation or without even telling his father where he was going. Henever came back again. A few years after, he died, without having in themeantime exchanged a word or a letter with his father. He married abroadand left one son, who seems to have been brought up in ignorance of allbelonging to him. The gulf between them appears to have beenunbridgable; for in time this son married and in turn had a son, butneither joy nor sorrow brought the sundered together. Under suchconditions no _rapprochement_ was to be looked for, and an utterindifference, founded at best on ignorance, took the place of familyaffection--even on community of interests. It was only due to thewatchfulness of the lawyers that the birth of this new heir was ever madeknown. He actually spent a few months in the ancestral home.
"After this the family interest merely rested on heirship of the estate.As no other children have been born to any of the newer generations inthe intervening years, all hopes of heritage are now centred in thegrandson of this man.
"Now, it will be well for you to bear in mind the prevailingcharacteristics of this race. These were well preserved and unchanging;one and all they are the same: cold, selfish, dominant, reckless ofconsequences in pursuit of their own will. It was not that they did notkeep faith, though that was a matter which gave them little concern, butthat they took care to think beforehand of what they should do in orderto gain their own ends. If they should make a mistake, someone elseshould bear the burthen of it. This was so perpetually recurrent that itseemed to be a part of a fixed policy. It was no wonder that, whateverchanges took place, they were always ensured in their own possessions.They were absolutely cold and hard by nature. Not one of them--so far aswe have any knowledge--was ever known to be touched by the softersentiments, to swerve from his purpose, or hold his hand in obedience tothe dictates of his heart. The pictures and effigies of them all showtheir adherence to the early Roman type. Their eyes were full; theirhair, of raven blackness, grew thick and close and curly. Their figureswere massive and typical of strength.
"The thick black hair, growing low down on the neck, told of vastphysical strength and endurance. But the most remarkable characteristicis the eyes. Black, piercing, almost unendurable, they seem to containin themselves a remarkable will power which there is no gainsaying. Itis a power that is partly racial and partly individual: a powerimpregnated with some mysterious quality, partly hypnotic, partlymesmeric, which seems to take away from eyes that meet them all power ofresistance--nay, all power of wishing to resist. With eyes like those,set in that all-commanding face, one would need to be strong indeed tothink of resisting the inflexible will that lay behind.
"You may think, Adam, that all this is imagination on my part, especiallyas I have never seen any of them. So it is, but imagination based ondeep study. I have made use of all I know or can surmise logicallyregarding this strange race. With such strange compelling qualities, isit any wonder that there is abroad an idea that in the race there is somedemoniac possession, which tends to a more definite belief that certainindividuals have in the past sold themselves to the Devil?
"But I think we had better go to bed now. We have a lot to get throughto-morrow, and I want you to have your brain clear, and all yoursusceptibilities fresh. Moreover, I want you to come with me for anearly walk, during which we may notice, whilst the matter is fresh in ourminds, the peculiar disposition of this place--not merely yourgrand-uncle's estate, but the lie of the country around it. There aremany things on which we may seek--and perhaps find--enlightenment. Themore we know at the start, the more things which may come into our viewwill develop themselves."